“Oh hey, Samantha.” Ethan ran his fingers along a garment on the table, then blushed and backed away when he realized it was a pair of lacy pink panties. “I didn’t know you worked here.”

“Only part-time.” The shopgirl glanced at Emma again. Her expression soured. “Are you two . . . friends?”

Ethan glanced at Emma, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Sutton, this is Samantha. She goes to St. Xavier. Samantha, this is Sutton Mercer.”

Samantha snatched the cotton tee from Emma and placed it back on the rack. “Sutton and I are already acquainted.”

Emma squared her shoulders, wary of Samantha’s tone. “Um, right,” she said. “Actually, I was wondering if you kept transaction records?” She held up her sister’s Amex bill. “I’m kind of in trouble for overspending on my credit card, and I want to return some stuff I bought on August thirty-first.” She let out an embarrassed giggle. “The problem is, I can’t remember what I bought where.”

Samantha pressed her hand to her chest, feigning surprise. “You don’t remember what you purchased?”

“Uh, no.” Emma wanted to roll her eyes. If she knew the answer, why would she be asking? But she needed Samantha’s help, so she’d have to bite her tongue and save her retort for her Comebacks I Should Have Said folder, a collection of nasty responses she’d thought of but hadn’t dared to say.

“Do you remember what you stole?” Samantha challenged.

“Excuse me?”

“The last time you were in,” Samantha said slowly, like she was speaking to a kindergartener, “you and your friends stole a pair of hammered gold earrings. Or have you conveniently forgotten that, too?”

Looks like I spent my last day on Earth as a shoplifter.

Emma clung to Samantha’s words. “My friends? Which ones?”

“Seriously, what are you on?” Samantha’s eyes were on fire. “Trust me, if I knew who they were or had solid proof of what you guys did, I’d press charges in a heartbeat.” With that, she whipped around, strode to the back of the store on her spike-heel booties, and began feverishly reorganizing a display of argyle sweaters.

For a moment, the only sounds in the store were the pounding beats of a Chemical Brothers dance mix. Then Emma ran her fingers over an itchy wool sweater dress and glanced at Ethan. “Which friends could Sutton have been with? Why wouldn’t they have just told me?”

Ethan picked up a ballet flat, turning it over in his hands before setting it next to its twin. “Maybe the shoplifting had them freaked out.”

“Freaked out about shoplifting? Are you serious?” Emma moved closer to Ethan and lowered her voice to a whisper. “These are the same girls who strangled Sutton for fun. And when the police escorted me to Hollier in a cop car on the first day of school, they were thrilled.”